


Waves to the Shore.

by theweakestthing



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Strangefrost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 02:29:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16232363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: "There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea." - Lord Byron.





	Waves to the Shore.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift to my dear friend, muse and confidant Jasmine, I hope you enjoy and happy birthday!

The waves crashed against the jagged rocks that made up their shoreline like lovers coming together and Loki hated the sight all the more for the image it brought to his mind. Of all the things to be jealous of, he didn’t think that even he would feel that way about the shore and sea, but there he was feeling it all the same.

Everything behind him, on their new found homeland, was calm and peaceful. Things had settled easily, the Earth governments had been surprisingly understanding and the whole thing had gone off without too many hitches. The land had been turned into a home at such a pace that it had left Loki’s head spinning. In his opinion, things had gone too smoothly and the whole ordeal was quite frankly boring.

His brother’s fumbling with the officials and his new status of leadership was entertaining at first, but he quickly grew tired of it. There wasn’t much fun to be had especially when he was supposed to be being good and lying low. He wasn’t as well liked as Thor was on Earth, the memory of his effort to dominate the planet was still fresh and he’d done little to redeem himself since, not that he particularly cared to.

Something had to give though and soon or Loki was likely to terrorise the entire court just to see the look on Thor’s face. The valkyrie had already made threats to his life without him doing much of anything. The general Asgardian populous didn’t seem to pay him much mind one way or another though. He supposed that had more to do with the things that had come to light about their father, comparatively what he’d done wasn’t so bad. That and the fact that he’d been holding court on his own for a while and nothing much had gone wrong then.

He had promised his brother that he’d play nice and keep himself out of trouble, but the itch under his skin was getting harder and harder to ignore. Thor probably expected as much, he had been looking at Loki recently with wary eyes as though he were likely to spontaneously combust, spraying everyone in the room with his giblets. That particular parlour trick wasn’t in Loki’s arsenal as of yet.

 “Why don’t you join me brother?” Thor had asked, coming to join him at the wild shore.

“Join you where exactly?” Loki returned, brow arched as he flicked his gaze toward his brother.

“On an excursion with the Avengers, you would be a valuable ally in any battle,” Thor said, brimming with the brotherly pride that Loki loathed and loved in equal measure.

“I’m not sure that your Avengers will see it that way,” Loki said and turned his eyes back to the waves.

“They will come around given the chance,” Thor said, he gave Loki an almighty clap on the back which Loki took great efforts not to react to. “Banner has already softened on you and he was fit to murder you before, have faith brother,” he added, hand still firm against Loki’s back.

Loki considered it. The last time he’d met with the Avengers was not the best and they were highly unlikely to view him with anything above disdain, but that didn’t concern Loki much. If it caused Thor discomfort though, that might not do. He was likely to put his brother in a position of defending his honour, which would quickly become tiresome. Then again, all he would have to do to brush that away was to prove himself in some manner. He didn’t need to gain their trust or favour, he simply needed to fight off some other foe to sway their opinion away from hatred and suspicion. It wouldn’t stray far, but he didn’t need it to.

At least it would stave off the boredom for a few hours.

“What say you brother?” Thor asked, his smile was as warm as the hand against Loki’s back.

“I think I’ll take you up on your offer, this once,” Loki said, as though he were doing his brother a favour.

 

* * *

 

 

They were all lucky to be alive as far as Stephen was concerned, more than lucky. Most of them were nursing bruises along with any number of minor to not so minor injuries, the rest had healing abilities or the like. Stephen tried not to focus too much on watching their bruises, cuts and scrapes disappear before his eyes, his pain would be with him long after these new injuries had healed.

He wasn’t particularly in the mood for celebration, in all honesty he wanted to go back to the Sanctum and fall upon his bed into a long and deep slumber until the next world ending calamity approached. There he was though, whiskey that was becoming mostly water from the melted ice held in his shaking grasp, listening to the tales of victory they told each other to stave off the terror that was only just under the skin.

Well, only some of them were doing that. He could see Loki bristling with pride and preening like some great raven in the corner. Stephen would admit, if only to himself, that he was a man held together by spite, pride, a gnawing thirst for knowledge and a blooming sense of duty which was still very new to him. Loki, however, was evidently the kind that lived off of pride and sucked the attention out of a room whether it were good or bad and would deny it to his deathbed.

Stephen was still keeping an eye on Loki, as was everyone else in that room, he was sure. There didn’t seem to be an immediate threat, but that didn’t mean much, it could mean far worse if his knowledge of Loki was anything to go by. Scheming meant being quiet until the time was right and that could be any time at all.

At least four other people were thinking along the same lines as him. Tony’s eyes kept flicking to the corner Loki lurked in every time he brought his drink to his lips, Natasha was doing a far better job at concealing her surveillance and Stephen supposed that came from experience. Steve made himself an ever present warning, stood practically in the middle of the room with a hardnosed expression pointed vaguely in Loki’s direction. Bucky’s body was facing Loki, coiled like spring just waiting for him to make a move. Stephen, however, didn’t need to surreptitiously spy on Loki since the so called god of mischief was periodically sending him baleful glares. He suspected that he was the focus of Loki’s disdain because he was the last person in the room to slight him and as such was the most fresh in Loki’s long memory.

Besides Bruce, who had made polite but terse conversation with Loki, no one else had spared him more than a few words. It was as much as Loki should have expected, not that he seemed like he was up for entertaining the entire room. The Asgardian looked bored and that might have put a few people in the room more on edge. Loki didn’t stay long and neither did Stephen, he drained his watered down whisky and returned to the Sanctum. He spent far longer considering how much of a threat Loki posed than was probably necessary.

 

* * *

 

 

The wizard’s pompous gaze grated against Loki’s nerves. Self assured and over confident, Loki fantasised about taking him down a peg or two. That wouldn’t do though, not with the tenuous freedom he was currently enjoying as he continued to aid the so called Avengers in cleaning up messes that were quite frankly far beneath him.

After his first foray into public, many had cried out for his blood, demanded that he be brought to justice for the crimes he’d committed. Thor had made the case that he’d served his time in Asgard, which was mostly true but a great many things had happened since then and Loki wasn’t going to argue with his brother about the circumstances which had led to his freedom. The people of Earth didn’t seem to care much for Thor’s statement anyway.

Banner had surprisingly come to his aid and had declared that he’d caused as much destruction as Loki had, maybe more. Then there’d been a meeting between the whole spandex clad lot, which Loki wasn’t supposed to know about, and Stark had seemingly spent a great deal on spinning Loki’s public image. 

It had assuaged the angry mob some, enough that calls for Loki’s head were significantly reduced. Loki hadn’t precisely thanked anyone for the efforts they had taken to defend him, he doubted that any of them expected anything in return besides him not betraying them, which he quite frankly had no interest in at that moment. Besides, Thor had thanked Banner enough for the both of them.

Still, the wizard and a few others kept their eyes upon him when they’d be better served kept in front of them. It was worth it to tease his brother for his foibles in battle and to watch Banner twitch with every retelling of their childhood adventures, many of which involved Loki’s penance for mischief and lies. If Stark overheard a tale, a sarcastic and snappy comment would be sent their way. More than half of what made up the Avengers still steered clear of him, even after he’d saved some of their lives, which was simply fine by him.

The excursions were somewhat enjoyable, he was able to fool countless peons with his illusions and trickery. It was enough to provide him with a brief stint of sardonic laughter. Not enough to keep the urge for mischief at bay for any considerable amount of time though, but he was getting by on torturing Thor, turning cereal into confetti and a number of pranks many of which ended in a light stabbing. He couldn’t keep it up for forever.

He’d have to think of something later. At that moment he was a little preoccupied with an insectile race of aliens that were trying to invade Earth, which was quite frankly rude since it belonged to him. He was carving through them with the wizard at his side, the man was more than adept at magic, not that Loki would acknowledge it. Especially since he was still sore from falling for thirty minutes, it’s an inordinately long time to freefall and he hadn’t gotten Strange back for that yet.

What appeared to be an alien aircraft came barrelling down the street past them, it tore up the concrete and cars as it went by. They watched as careened into the side of a building at the end of the block and went up in flames, apparently these particular aliens were terrible pilots.

“An eight legged horse would be pretty good right about now,” Strange said, staring down the trail the damaged aircraft had left behind.

“A what?” Loki asked scrunching up his face as looked back at the other.

“An eight legged horse,” Strange reiterated turning his gaze to Loki.

“I wasn’t aware your realm had such creatures,” Loki said, he tried to think back to the time he’d been to Earth in his youth and still he hadn’t seen anything of the like.

“Well, it’s supposed to be your child,” Strange shrugged and began toward the new centre of exo-skeletal mayhem.

The sigh that Loki heaved left his breath curling in the brittle air between them.

“I have no children, wizard,” Loki said sharply, stalking beside the other.

“Ah, just another thing the books got wrong,” Strange said, “I’ll have to adjust my library,” he added, smiling sardonically.

“Yes,” Loki said, tersely and stabbed one of the aliens through its body. He made it appear as though there were many of him, worked his frustration out on the horde. What little he’d heard of Earth’s mythologies and history did not show any of the Asgardians in an especially good light and Loki found them distasteful. They were particularly cruel toward him personally.

 

* * *

 

 

Stephen had no idea why he was doing it, why he had dropped down beside Loki, expensive leather squeaking beneath him. But he was there now and so he thought he might as well go with it.

“What about Jormungundr? Fenrir? Hel?” He asked. Stephen figured since he’d gotten such a kick out of Loki’s previous reaction that he needed to see it again. If he could get under Loki’s skin then he would. He was bored, he justified, what better to do then than torment someone who sorely needed it.

“Hella was our sister and I already said that I have not borne any children,” Loki explained dryly.

“Right, wonder how those stories spread around?” Stephen said as though he didn’t already know and sipped at the whisky he didn’t really want.

“It appears that your people have always had a dislike for me, I can say that the feeling is most certainly mutual,” Loki said, seething over the top of some kind of fruity cocktail with an umbrella in it.

“Then why are you still here?” Stephen asked with a smile which may have been too far.

He saw the twitch of Loki’s fingers and supposed that the other was thinking of reaching for his knife. Stephen raised a brow as though he were daring the Loki to just try it, after a moment Loki’s hand relaxed and he released a long sigh from between his thin lips.

“I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go,” Loki muttered, “our home was destroyed by my beloved sister and a giant man made of fire waving a fire sword.”

“You have my deepest sympathies,” Stephen said, he wasn’t entirely joking, he couldn’t imagine losing Earth and moving across the universe to some planet that kinda of completely hated his guts. Even if he did deserve the hatred, somewhat.

“Are you mocking me wizard?” Loki asked, eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“Lightly, yes,” Stephen replied, staying where he was and ignored Loki’s attempt to intimidate him.

Loki’s jaw set, “you have slighted me four times now.”

“Oh, you’re counting,” Stephen said, brows raised as he tried not to laugh outright.

“I keep track of everything,” Loki returned swiftly.

“Of course you do,” Stephen muttered to himself. “So I presume that there’s a pointy knife somewhere in my future,” he said.

“You think you know me so well,” Loki’s voice came slickly from between his lips, as though his tongue had transformed into a snake.

“I don’t know you at all,” Stephen said and took a sip from his neglected whisky.

Loki disappeared and suddenly there wasn’t anyone for Stephen to bother, the colourful cocktail sat discarded on the glass topped table before him. He wondered how that, an honest statement, had been the last straw.

The larger than life ego of Tony Stark took the space that Loki had been occupying. His brows were raised and his head was tilted toward Stephen.

“What did you do to offend our esteemed guest? Did you do anything besides grovel on your knees? I heard he doesn’t like that,” Tony spoke in his usual quick fire manner, as though his mouth were the barrel of a machine gun.

“No, far worse, I was honest,” Stephen said, he finished off his drink and rose from the couch.

“Ouch,” Tony said with smirk, he watched as Stephen drew a portal with the sling ring and stepped through.

Stephen went on through to the library, ignoring his aching body and weary mind. He pulled a book on Norse mythology free from the dusty shelves. He sat by lamp light and began to read, sly smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

The pages were soft and the texture told of thousands of hands that had previously held the same knowledge, such a shame that it was all wrong. Loki pursed his lips and tutted every now and then as he flicked through the pages.

“Hello Loki,” Strange murmured with faint distaste, “I didn’t expect the stabbing to come so soon,” he said and jettisoned the book from Loki’s hand with the flick of his wrist.

“I’m not here to stab you,” Loki sighed, dropping his now empty hands onto his lap.

“Oh?” Strange replied in earnest, “then what are you here to do?” he asked.

“I’ve gone through what little was salvaged of our library and I am bored,” Loki said, stretching out on the long chair. He crossed his ankles and placed his feet on the cushions.

“Bored?” Strange repeated, parrot like, he stared down at Loki as though the other were nothing more than a petulant child.

“Yes, dreadfully so,” Loki said.

“And you thought you would stave off this boredom by reading through my library?” Strange asked, his eyes flicked around the room and landed back on Loki.

“What I’ve read so far was entertaining at least,” Loki said and toyed idly with a strand of his hair.

“Entertaining?” Strange raised an incredulous brow, he continued to stare down at Loki.

“Well, there’s a lot of fiction in there,” Loki said, eyeing the book in the wizard’s hand.

“In here?” Strange asked, tapping the book.

Loki nodded sagely. The wizard stared down at the book as though it had betrayed him. Loki wondered how much of these books were filled with lies and misinformation. He’d find out eventually, even if Strange tried to keep him out he’d get back to this library one way or another. Strange returned the book to its place on the shelf before turning back to face Loki again.

“How did you get in here anyways?” Strange asked, eyes narrowing.

“I have my ways,” Loki said with a wave of his hand.

“That’s not an answer,” the wizard returned, voice dropping low.

“You shouldn’t expect one,” Loki said, perhaps pushing his luck. Pushing his luck was a permanent part of who he was, he’d been doing it since he could remember and there was no way he was going to stop now. It hadn’t served him well, but at this point it was maybe too late to learn how to stop.

“It sounds like you’re asking for another fall,” Strange said, fingers and hands spread out ready to form a portal for Loki to disappear through.

“We’re both sorcerers. You have your ways of getting from place to place and so do I,” Loki said, in something that approached a placating manner.

The wizard hovered, stayed standing where he was and continued stared at Loki. He seemed to be considering something and Loki folded his fingers over the blade hidden in his belt. There was no way he was going to allow Strange to leaving him falling for who knows how long again.

“You break it you bought it,” Strange said finally, a tone hard, like parent and Loki tried not to sneer.

“I am not familiar with Midgard slang quiet yet,” Loki said.

“There will be consequences if I find one single thing out of place,” Strange elaborated, tone monotonous.

“Understood,” Loki said and gave a mock of a salute with the swish of his fingers.

The wizard turned, the cape flicking out behind them as though it had gotten the last word. Loki ignored the odd feeling of disappointment and reached for another book, bending backward over the couch. Strange returned minutes later with a book of his own and dropped himself into a hard backed chair in a corner. Apparently Loki needed supervision, typical and understandable.  

 

* * *

 

 

Stephen found Loki in the library every now and then, folded up in a chair like a bad omen that he keeps crossing paths with. The menace kept leaving annotations on loose leaf hidden between the pages of books that Stephen had yet to read himself. The worst part was that Loki’s notes were right, not that he’d let anyone know that it was Loki who’d straightened out the facts. No one needed to know that. There’d been post-it notes left besides a few artefacts proclaiming them as fakes. It didn’t matter to Stephen whether they were or not, he hadn’t been the one to put them there and they were surely going to outlast him anyways.

Winter turned to Spring which turned to Summer and the way the blistering sunlight bounced off of Loki’s glossy hair was just irritating enough to get him to poke the bear. Over the months, Stephen had only spared a handful of sentences with the other and the majority of those had been thinly veiled threats. Those threats were returned with venom and vigour, perhaps Loki was feeling a little big for his britches since he hadn’t been kicked out yet.

“Did you really shave Sif’s head?” Stephen asked with a faux air of nonchalance. He was in the middle of translating a tome and the light shining off of Loki’s hair and into his eyes was decidedly not helpful.

Loki’s eyes shot up from the book perched in his lap.

“That tale is partially true,” Loki said, a sharp and ghoulish smile curved along his lips, Stephen supposed he was revelling in the memory.

“But she’s not married to your brother,” Stephen said more than asked, since he already knew that they weren’t.

“Oh no,” Loki said with a shake of his head, “he’s never had any idea of her love for him, he still sees her as Sif the great warrior. He’ll never notice her as a woman,” he added, it was the first time he’d really sounded like a brother.

“I see,” Stephen breathed.

“This happened when we were far younger, we were on one of our any adventures and I was tasked with keeping watch while everyone slept. I was bored and it was something to do, I wasn’t the only one who laughed when they woke the next morning,” Loki explained with a wry smile.

“Did it grow back?” Stephen asked, in the story he’d read Loki had been forced to ask dwarves for help since it wouldn’t grow back, for some reason, and Thor had supposedly threatened his life over hair. Knowing the pair of them personally, Stephen couldn’t quite imagine Thor threatening his brother’s life and genuinely meaning it, he especially couldn’t imagine Loki being at all bothered by such a threat.

“Eventually, yes,” Loki said, Stephen easily imagined Loki in his late teens or early twenties (well the Asgardian equivalent) shearing a cohort’s hair off in the middle of the night on a whim. He’d seen Loki transform himself into a goat, which their most recent foes had resembled, at Avengers’ HQ simply to freak everyone out.

Stephen turned his eyes back to the texts. His handwriting was awful despite the magic he was using to aid him, it subsided the shaking but the pain remained. The pain would always remain. That was kind of the point. He needed it, to remind him of what his pride had cost him, to remind of the person he used to be. A shadow cast itself over the desk. Loki stood before him, emerald eyes on his hands.

He wondered if Loki was about mock him, declare his work pointless somehow or maybe the stabbing was about to start but he had expected Loki to be a bit more clandestine than this. Instead of any of those things though, Loki pulled Stephen’s work from beneath his hands.

“How do you expect anyone to read this?” Loki asked, and before Stephen could reply Loki said, “I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do it?” Stephen asked brows furrowed in confusion as he stared up at the other.

“Yes,” Loki replied. He set the materials back down onto the desk and pulled a chair up to it.

“And you have experience in translating ancient texts?” Stephen asked, he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“I am older than this book,” Loki said as he turned the book in his direction.

“That doesn’t mean that you know what you’re doing,” Stephen returned. He was pretty sure that Loki could do it, he couldn’t remember Loki bragging about something he couldn’t actually do. It was more the principle of the thing. He didn’t want Loki to see him as weak.

“I’ve translated more books than you’ve ever read,” Loki said, he pulled all of Stephen’s papers and tools toward him, “not that anything I say is going to convince you,” he added derisively. “I know you don’t trust me, but I know you’re kind trusts results so wait a while before you send me falling through nothingness again,” Loki waved a hand and began in earnest.

Stephen watched as Loki worked, entirely unsure of what to make of it. Maybe it was a peace offering, something small that said ‘I’m not actually going to stab you or at least not something worse than that’, which was close to a miracle where Loki was concerned. Loki was right, he couldn’t trust him, he shouldn’t trust him. From what he’d heard, trusting Loki was a decidedly moronic thing to do. Though, it couldn’t hurt to let Loki do this, the worst he could do was a bad or mocking translation. It seemed harmless to Stephen.

 

* * *

 

 

Thor’s footsteps echoed through the Sanctum, Loki felt sorry for the aged wood that had to take the weight of his brother’s lumbering form. Loki had translated a fair amount of the wizard’s ancient texts in the time it took summer to turn to winter again. Strange had scoffed a few times at the translations and there’d been words exchanged. The little spats and threats of falling and knives were worth it, that one time Strange had used a portal to make him stab himself, it was all worth it to keep the itch of boredom and the desire for destructive mischief at bay.

This way he had someone to torment, something to do and an outlet so that he could keep his promise.

“It’s so nice to see you making friends brother,” Thor said, voice like grit and a smile like waxing sunshine. Loki would have preferred the mirror dimension that the wizard threatened him with from time to time than this.

“We’re not,” Loki and Strange said unison.

Thor’s smile stretched wider and Loki found himself finally wishing that the floor would open up beneath him.

“I would only go so far as to say I tolerate your brother,” Strange said, “and even that’s generous,” he added.

Between blinks of Loki’s eyes, the wizard had a steaming mug of camomile tea in his hand and suddenly Thor was holding a beer stein. Loki expected the desk before him to remain empty, but when he looked up he found a cup of inky black coffee besides his knuckles. He blinked at the ceramic for a second before pretending to continue with his work.

“I appreciate it all the same, he’s never been exceptionally good at making friends,” Thor said, sending Loki another smile.

“Well, he pays his way so I’m not going to kick him out just yet,” Strange said with shrug, leant against the bookshelves like he had scolded Loki for doing.

“You’ve been translating texts again?” Thor looked over at Loki, brow raised slightly as their eyes meet across the room.

Loki knew what that look meant, knew what that damned tone meant. It left his mind reeling to find how his brother had tumbled down to that conclusion. Of course he’d spent the better part of a year in and out of the place, but that didn’t mean anything. He really was just translating texts.

“Yes, I’ve been translating, the wizard here has a lot of books he can’t read,” Loki stated, honest truth rolling off his tongue as he stared dead eyed at Thor.

Thor nodded and Loki knew the oaf didn’t buy it, smiling like he was keeping a secret behind his teeth. Loki’s hands twitched to knock them out.

“Okay, well have fun,” Thor said. He finished off his drink and left.

Loki was burning beneath his skin. He knew there wasn’t anything he could say or do that would make Thor believe they weren’t doing whatever he thought they were doing. The only time they’d touched was the aforementioned time that Loki had been close enough to stab Strange, this was after the wizard had mentioned the whole eight legged horse thing again. While Loki had been aiming just below the ribs, he wouldn’t have called it an intimate embrace.

He drank the coffee, licking his teeth as he continued to stare at the tome before him without seeing the words. It went down like tar and Loki couldn’t think beyond making plans to get back at his brother.

“Do you just call me ‘the wizard’ because that’s just who you are or do you really not know my name?” Strange asked, still leant against the bookcase. He was looking at Loki as though he was seeing something he hadn’t seen before.

Loki had a feeling that this wasn’t the question he was really asking. He flicked his eyes up to the other and set the coffee cup back down on the desk.

“I know your name,” Loki said. He held Strange’s gaze, kept that something else they were talking about just crackling beneath the surface.

“Are you sure about that? You don’t seem sure about that?” Strange said, words coming out around a smile.

“I am sure Doctor Stephen Strange,” Loki said, voice hard and tone even. It felt like a victory, but the longer he stared at the other the more it felt like he’d given something away.

They stayed like that, staring at each other as though they both expected something to happen but weren’t going to be the one to do it. Loki’s eyes zeroed in on the faint but still noticeable shaking of the other’s hands. It was always there and got worse throughout the day depending on what Strange was doing.

Loki never stayed longer than he needed to, no longer than a few hours every time because he was knew that his eyes would eventually fall there. He could only imagine what constant pain felt like. In his time, Loki had felt a number of horrifying pains that would empty anyone’s stomach in an instant, but they had all ended.

 

* * *

 

 

People noticed. Stephen hadn’t thought that anything had really changed between them, but apparently it had and apparently people had noticed. They were coming up with a plan on how to deal with a man that had bonded with an alien life form in some sort of symbiotic relationship. Loki had muttered something about not wanting to break up the happy couple and Stephen hadn’t been able to stop the snort that pulled itself out of his throat. A sea of face, each wearing varying different expressions, turned to him.

After that, Stephen had begun to notice too. He examined the situation, thought about how Loki popped into the Sanctum whenever he felt like it, as though he actually enjoyed being there. Stephen had no idea what he’d been thinking about that before, he probably hadn’t thought why Loki was there at all.

He wasn’t stupid enough to genuinely deny that he enjoys Loki’s company, even when the menace is trying to stab him. Sure he wouldn’t say it out loud but he wasn’t going to lie to himself either. Stephen enjoyed the handful of hours where Loki would pretend to be at the end of his rope, the kind of bored that makes people twitchy and the Sanctum was his very last choice of places he’d like to be. He didn’t buy it but he didn’t say anything about it either.

Loki had his feet on the desk and Stephen knew that it was just to wind him up, what Loki didn’t know was that the desk wasn’t that old and it wasn’t like Loki had anything but dust on the bottom of his boot. Instead of looking away to show that he wasn’t bothered by Loki’s juvenile display of half-baked defiance, Stephen kept his eyes steady on the other.

The weak January sun was barely bleeding onto the leather that Loki clad himself in. He always wore green and black, it washed out his skin and made him appear even more pale than he actually was. He ran his eyes over the way his inky swath of hair curled around his ear and jaw, attractive seaweed was something he thought and would keep to himself. Stephen eyed the way Loki was pretending not to smile, lips pressed together and body held in an expression of faux nonchalance.

Even from the very first time he’d met Loki, Stephen had wanted nothing more than to get under the so called god’s skin. In a way, he knew he had since Loki kept coming back.

Before he could sink any further into his thoughts and come close to something else that was still bubbling under the surface, there was a knock at the door. Loki looked up at Stephen, mischief dancing at the edge of his lips.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Loki asked.

Stephen didn’t have the time to wonder whether it was frustration or disappointment that shifted under the mask of Loki’s face, the knocking didn’t stop.

“No,” Stephen replied as he rose from the couch to get the door.

Tony, one of the few people who actually had to knock when they want to enter the Sanctum, was stood there on the street when Stephen opened the door.

“Hey,” Tony said, stood there in his winter coat with the collar tilted up against the biting breeze.

“Hi,” Stephen returned, blinking back at Tony.

“You just going leave me out here until I turn into a human popsicle or what?” Tony said as he jammed his hands into his armpits.

“Come on inside Tony,” Stephen said and stepped aside.

Tony climbed on in and began talking, his words came out quick fire. Something about something that sounded kind of like cthulhu or some kind of kraken. Stephen followed as Tony went further into the Sanctum, moving like he owned the place and was just showing Stephen around. Eventually Tony got to the point and that was that he wanted to know everything Stephen knew about that sort Lovecraftian stuff, he wanted to know if he had any books about it.

Maybe a few months ago Stephen would have felt a sense of rising panic as Tony rounded on the library, but at that moment it didn’t seem to matter too much, they were going to end up there anyways. Whether Loki was still there or not didn’t matter either, everyone had already seen them being what could only be considered friendly to a bunch of people whose near death experiences were getting deep into the double digits.

Stephen strode in behind Tony, sparing only a glance at Loki, just to watch the other’s reaction before he made his way to the shelves. Boy was it a sight to see too, the slightest widening of eyes before Loki was able to train his expression. Stephen smiled to himself as he pulled a few books free and flicked through them. As he turned to Tony with a book held open in his hands, he found Tony smiling something that could have only been described as a shit eating grin back at him.

"I see you got yourself a witch, wizard. Good for you,” Tony said and all of Stephen’s good will went out the window.

 

* * *

 

 

Stretched out on the leather bound couch with nothing to do and no one paying attention to him, Loki was wound tight enough to snap, tension evident in the strap of muscles shifting just under his skin. He knew that Strange knew he was there, the wizard always knew and had always appeared shortly after his arrival but not this time it seemed.

Loki brushed his fingers through his hair as he continued to eye the doorway. There was a moment of indecision, a moment where Loki considered simply returning to what his brother was begging him to call home instead of crag. He ran his tongue along the points of his teeth and thought.

There simply wasn’t anything important that the wizard could be doing, at least nothing more important than Loki was. He didn’t sense any presence in the building beside Strange. There shouldn’t have been anything keeping the other from him. Then he began to wonder, what if Strange was hurt? He certainly wouldn’t be calling out to Loki for help, he couldn’t be trusted. What if his hands were bothering him so much that day that he wouldn’t show his face? What if something had happened?

Then he stopped thinking and rose from the couch, the leather creaked beneath him.

He found Strange in the kitchen, the modern appliances were oddly juxtaposed against the aged dark wood of the counters and cupboards. Strange was brewing more of that tea that made Loki’s head swim with mist. He had his back to Loki and really that would not do. Loki took Strange’s shoulders and spun the man around, he had to already know that Loki was there; the ignorance was an offence but even worse was the total lack of surprise on the man’s face. That too would not do.

Before Loki had really thought the action through, he was pressing his mouth to Strange’s. He tasted like tea leaves and cynicism.

Strange’s fingers shook as he tried to drag them through the abyss of Loki’s hair. Loki sighed into the kiss and raised his hands to cover Stephen’s, to ease and subside the pain with his magic. The pads of his fingers caught along the linen over Stephen’s arm as he grasped the man. Fingers clutched around the wizard’s shoulder and his other hand curved over Stephen’s jaw, fingernails scratching the stubble the flowed into his salt and pepper beard.

“I was wondering when that was going to happen,” Stephen said, lips curled against Loki’s.

“Please shut up,” Loki said, balanced on the precipice between embarrassment and elation. He held fast onto Stephen and held the other close, nipping at his jaw line.  

“Do you ever when I ask you?” Stephen said, sighing as he continued to run his fingers through Loki’s hair.

“That’s not the same thing,” Loki said, he dragged his teeth over Stephen’s neck, tasting the other’s pulse.

“It’s exactly the same, you just have an extremely inflated ego,” Stephen said, amusement danced in his tone and the sound of it made Loki’s head spin.

“And you don’t?” Loki asked, flicking his eyes up at Stephen, brow cocked and emerald eyes alight with mischief. Stephen had only groaned in reply.  

At first Stephen was pliant, turning every which way Loki wanted him to, but then Loki found himself thrust against the counter. There was a strong hand held fast to the back of Loki’s head, fingernails scraping against the nape of his neck, their mouths were still connected. Loki was leant backward over the counter, elbows pressed down as he kept himself upright. Stephen’s tongue swept over the seam of his lips and Loki wished he had thought of that first as he gasped at the sensation, then Stephen’s tongue slipped inside.

Loki tried not to think about it, about why he was doing this and what had led him there. The pretence of boredom was already worn paper thin and Loki could hardly deny that he enjoyed the other, especially not in his current position.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Stephen murmured gruffly, the words spilled down Loki’s throat.

“That’s not likely,” Loki returned.

He kicked off the counter and slammed Stephen into the wall. His hands gripped the other man, holding him close. Stephen’s fingers were still in his hair, tangling and caressing as they attempted to devour each other. Loki managed to work his knee between Stephen’s legs, melding their bodies together. He rubbed his leg against Stephen’s groin and swallowed the soft groans.

Then, suddenly, they were falling. Loki fell on his back and bounced softly on the mattress. The wizard fell atop him and they collided with the same fervour, like a sailor’s most hated kind of waves crashing against the shore. Their hands were frantic as they clambered and grasped each other like teenagers, desperate for that first taste of each other.

Magic sure was a convenient thing, Loki thought as he freed them of their clothes. Skin on skin, the heat was so good and the sensation of their bodies sliding together was almost enough to scratch the itch that’d been bothering him since he’d gotten back to Earth. Stephen’s fingers shook around them, Loki didn’t mind since the friction was fantastic. They kept their mouths attached, lip and body locked, rutting against each other. Sighing into each other’s mouths as sweat began to build between them, easing the way.

It wasn’t clear and it didn’t matter who came first, a boundary had been broken, something had given and everything had changed. Loki heaved breath as he watched Stephen do the same, coming down from the ecstasy, realisation was seeping in.

“This may have been a long time coming,” Loki murmured, lips moving against Stephen’s collar bone.

“That’s what I said,” Stephen said breathily.

“Yes, but I’m saying it now,” Loki returned with wicked glee while Stephen rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

The wind shifted through his hair in a mock of the way Loki’s fingers would, he could see the rueful smile since it was staring back at him. Loki’s hair was wiping around him like ink caught in water. Stephen never would have been able to predict that he would end up where he was. He hadn’t thought about being with anyone for years, hadn’t thought that it really figured in to being sorcerer supreme, but it had happened all the same. Things happen, things just happen and you roll with the punches, handle things as best you can.

Loki said something but he words were stolen by the crashing of the waves against the shore, snow clung loosely to the sand.

“What?” Stephen called over the noise.

“I was talking to the sea,” Loki said, as though that made perfect sense.

“Of course you were,” Stephen sighed but couldn’t keep the sharp edge of a smile from his mouth, “and what did you say to the sea?”

“That now, since I have a wizard and she only has the shore, she should be jealous of me,” Loki said as though that too made perfect sense, all Stephen could do at that was smile as he looked back out toward the sea.

The waves were wild and surf crashed high into the air.

“It seems as though you’ve garnered her wrath,” Stephen said with a chuckle.

 


End file.
